


Christmas Lights

by FishEyenoMiko



Series: Sweet as Honey [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Couch Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Married Sex, Retirement, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:45:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas and a special gift rekindle Sherlock and John's love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Lights

John set his book down and rubbed his tired eyes. He stretched, stood up, and walked into the hall. Seeing the glow of the Christmas tree lights, he headed into the sitting room. He smiled when he saw Sherlock was standing in front of the tree.

"Hey there," he said, walking over and kissing Sherlock on the cheek. "Are you coming to bed?"

"Soon. I'm just looking at the tree. Obviously." Sherlock smiled at his own joke.

John laughed.

John walked over to the couch, which Arthur and Lisa had moved in front of the fireplace for them.

"Come sit in front of the fire," John invited with a smile.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's open the wine Lestrade gave us. It's a Christmas present, after all; we should use it at Christmas."

"All right," said John. "I'll go get the corkscrew and some glasses."

John went into the kitchen. He rinsed and dried two glasses, and got the corkscrew out of the drawer.

Reentering the sitting room, John set the glasses on the end table. He took the bottle from Sherlock and opened it, pouring some out for both of them.

Sherlock sat down and accepted the glass John offered, taking a sniff of the wine.

"Mmmm, this takes me back."

John sat down, also inhaling the wine's bouquet. His eyes widened in surprise. He was suddenly back the restaurant where Sherlock proposed to him.

"Oh, God..."

Sherlock laughed. "Told you."

"Yeah. I know smell can enhance your memory but... wow." John's borrow furrowed. "How did the waiter describe it...?"

"'A rich red with leafy notes'," Sherlock replied, a far off look in his eyes.

"Trust you to remember," said John with a fond smile.

Sherlock smiled back. "Lestrade must have asked Mycroft, to make sure he got the right wine."

"We'll have to thank them both," said John.

"Indeed," said Sherlock, bringing the glass up to his lips.

"Wait! We should make a toast first."

"Oh, if me must," said Sherlock, lowering his glass. The smile on his face suggested he wasn't as against the idea as he claimed.

Holding up his glass, John said, "To us."

"And to another thirty Christmases together." 

They toasted, and John took a sip of his wine.

"Ah, just like I remember it," said John, smiling.

"Hmmm," said Sherlock, after taking a rather generous drink from his own glass. "This is quite lovely. But then, I like my wine like I like my men--well-aged and full-bodied." He gave John a warm smile as he said it.

John raised an eyebrow at his husband. "Well, I like my wine like I like my humour--dry."

They both laughed.

"Oh, God," said John after another drink, "It's been ages since we've had wine."

"It has," said Sherlock. He finished off his glass, smiling at John. "You know what else we haven't done in ages?"

With that, he slid towards John, giving him a long, slow kiss.

"It has been awhile, hasn't it?"

"It has," Sherlock replied. 

Smiling, John took their glasses and set them next to the bottle on the end table.

Sherlock took his socks and shoes off, then stretched out on the couch. 

"Here?"

"Why not? In front the fire, with the fairy lights. And, really, what's the point of having an extra long couch if you're not going to use it?" Sherlock smirked. 

"You're right, that does sound nice." John smiled. "I'll be right back... I need to get the lube from the bedroom."

"I'll stoke the fire," said Sherlock, getting up as he said it.

John went to the bedroom and got the lube out of their nightstand. He came back into the sitting room to see the fire blazing and Sherlock waiting for him on the couch with a look of love and happiness.

"Would you like some music?"

"That would be nice," said Sherlock.

Getting up, John walked over and turned on the MP3 player. Soft classical music began playing. Smiling, he headed back over to the couch. Sitting down, he took off his socks and shoes, then turned and slowly crawled up the couch, next to his husband. John snuggled close, kissing Sherlock and running his hands down his arms.

John began unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt. As he did, his hand occasionally slid under the soft silk to caress the skin below. He let out a soft laugh.

"What's so funny?"

John looked up, running his fingers down Sherlock's face.

"After all these years, I would've thought undressing you wouldn't be exciting anymore." He kissed Sherlock. "I was wrong." 

John smiled and finished unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt. John indicated that Sherlock should sit up so he could remove it more easily. John ran his fingers along Sherlock's arms as his sleeves slid off him. Then he gently kissed him.

Sherlock took hold of the bottom of John's jumper. John held his arms up so he could take it off, wincing and shrugging his left shoulder as he lowered them again. Reaching forward, Sherlock gently massaged John's shoulder.

"Thanks," said John, kissing him.

Sherlock smiled. Then he unbuttoned John's shirt, pulling it off of him gently and slowly. Smiling, he ran a hand across John's chest. It stopped at his left shoulder, and Sherlock began gently running his fingers over the network of scars there. He leaned forward, kissing John's shoulder.

"Lay back and let me take your trousers off," said John.

Sherlock lay on his back. John undid his trousers and pulled them down to his knees. He wasn't surprised to see that Sherlock wasn't wearing pants; he knew some days Sherlock didn’t feel it was worth the trouble of trying to get them on. He pulled Sherlock's trousers the rest of the way off, taking care with his right leg.

John got up to take off his own trousers. 

Sherlock sat up, turning and putting his feet on the floor.

"Come here," he said to John, opening his legs and beckoning him forward. 

John stepped between Sherlock's legs, and rested his hands on Sherlock's shoulders. Sherlock leaned forward, wrapping his arms around John's waist and putting his head on John's stomach. John moved his hands up and began gently running his fingers through Sherlock's graying hair.

"John," said Sherlock, "I'm so lucky to have you to take care of me."

"Always," said John, leaning over and kissing the top of his head.

Sherlock smiled up at his husband. Then he slid his hands to the front of John's trousers and undid the button. Unzipping them, he pulled them open and looked down.

"Balls."

"Well... yeah," said John.

Sherlock looked up at him.

"No, I mean your pants. They have those... Christmas balls on them."

John smiled. "Well, it _is_ Christmas, Sherlock. You know... 'Don we now our gay apparel'?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Then he smirked. "May I touch your balls?"

"I wish you would."

Sherlock pulled John's trousers down to his knees. He ran his fingers over the soft silk of John's boxers, not-so-subtly groping John in the process.

John giggled. Then he leaned down and kissed Sherlock.

"Mind if I get undressed?"

"I wish you would," Sherlock echoed.

John slipped his trousers off the rest of the way, then removed his pants. As soon as he did, Sherlock reached between his legs and began gently fondling John's ball sack.

"Ah! Hey!"

"Well, you did say you wanted me to touch your balls, John."

"True enough." John sighed happily and leaned against Sherlock. "That feels good..."

"Have sex with me, John."

"All right." John took a step back. "Want me to get a pillow for your back?"

"That would be nice, thanks," said Sherlock as he lay back on the couch.

John got a pillow from where they'd dumped them on the floor. Sherlock tilted his pelvis, and John slid the pillow under him. This way, Sherlock's lower back would be supported while they had sex. Then he crawled up between Sherlock's spread his legs. They kissed gently and unhurriedly. 

John leaned on his right side and began stroking himself. Then he opened the lube, and used his fingers to carefully stretch Sherlock open.

"Ready?" John asked.

"Yes."

Both John and Sherlock moaned with pleasure as John slid into him. He moved slowly and carefully. This was partially because of their age--they were a bit old for wild, uninhibited sex--but also because John enjoyed taking his time, drawing out the act of lovemaking for both of them. 

Sherlock rubbed John's back and ruffled his hair as they kissed. Sherlock met John's gentle trusts with his own, driving John even deeper into him.

"So wonderful," John whispered in between kisses.

"Hmm... it is..."

John smiled. "I meant you."

"Oh," said Sherlock. "I meant the sex."

John laughed.

John sighed with pleasure as he climaxed. 

Sherlock rolled them on to their sides. John scooted down, snuggling his head into Sherlock's thin chest. Sherlock rubbed his shoulders and back.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you roll over, please?"

John smiled. "You wanna spoon?"

"Actually, I want to have sex in the spoon position."

"Oh! Certainly."

John rolled over. He reached down to pick up the lube where it had fallen on the floor and handed it back to Sherlock. Then he snuggled back against his husband. 

Sherlock carefully prepared John, then slid into him.

"I love you," said Sherlock.

John smiled. "I love you, too."


End file.
